Missing Finrod
Amarië picked up the mantle she'd been embroidering for the past several weeks and left her room to walk the corridors of the House. She stood indecisively in front of the closed door to her betrothed's room for some time and then finally lifted the latch.
The lamplight from the corridor was more than enough for her to see by and she crossed the room to the clothes press. Setting the mantle aside, she lifted the lid and sighed at the jumble of clothing that had been hidden from sight. She rose long enough to light a lamp and close the door and then set about restoring order. It was a wonder that Finrod didn't look like a vagabond with the way he took care of his clothes.
She emptied the press, carefully straightening and folding tunics and breeches and setting aside a formal robe that was in desperate need of cleaning and pressing. She lifted a well-worn and obviously favourite lounging robe from the bottom of the press and discovered a stuffed toy beneath it.
The toy was battered and much loved, the surface of the fur compressed where it had been hugged tightly over a long period of time. She picked it up in trembling hands and suddenly cuddled it close, weeping when she recognized Finrod's scent upon it. This was no token left over from his long ago childhood…
"No, child, it's not."
She raised her head at the sound of the deep, rich and now familiar voice but where the last time she'd been in the presence of Lord Námo she'd been panicking with terror, now she heard the sympathy in his voice and remained where she was, unmindful of her dishabille.
"I miss him," she said in a small voice and buried her face in the fur of the toy again.
Námo knelt by her and stroked the tumbled blond hair. He was pleased by her admission, one which she'd never made in all the yéni of Finrod's Exile and his time in Mandos. "And he misses you as well, yenya. But he is very busy right now and cannot take the time to come to you. He does appreciate your letters."
Amarië relaxed at his last words and lowered the toy to her lap, her fingers stroking the soft fur. "It's torn," she suddenly said as she discovered a rent right over where the heart would be had the toy been real. "Would he mind, do you think, if I fixed it?" she asked looking up at the Lord of Mandos.
"No, child, I do not think he'll mind." Námo said with a smile and dropped a kiss on her forehead.
When Amarië came back to herself she smiled at the toy in her hands and gently set it aside. She'd repair it, but first she needed to put her betrothed's clothes away. By the time everything was back in the press and the mantle was carefully laid atop the neatly folded clothing, the first hints of the dawn were appearing at the window. Reluctantly, Amarië picked up the stuffed toy to put it away. She was tempted to take it to her room but she hesitated. Then after dropping a kiss on it's head, she gently laid it in the press on top of the mantle. "I'll be back, I promise."
She closed the lid of the press and got to her feet, surprised that she didn't feel weary. She'd have to hurry to make it back to her room before her maid arrived with her morning tea.
